


Urithiru U

by Zeradoreh



Category: Cosmere - Brandon Sanderson, Stormlight Archive - Brandon Sanderson
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-15 05:28:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29430999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zeradoreh/pseuds/Zeradoreh
Summary: A self-indulgent spiralling multi-chapter college AU where Shallan wants to learn everything from the strange professor Jasnah Kholin and Adolin just wants to study fashion while he and his girlfriend date the new guy.Also, the Radiants are a soccer team. You're welcome.
Relationships: Jasnah Kholin/Wit (Stormlight Archive), Shallan Davar/Kaladin/Adolin Kholin
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14





	Urithiru U

Shallan Davar was going to get into Professor Kholin’s _History vs. Truth_ class this semester, and there wasn’t a single thing that anyone else could do about it – least of all Professor Kholin. She’d already been rejected twice, but three was a lucky number. As she sat outside the office now, waiting for her appointment, she had a good feeling about it.

“You see, Professor, I know that I’m only a sophomore, but hear me out,” she practiced. Around her feet, Pattern – her odd little emotional support cat – ran in what Shallan liked to imagine were encouraging circles. “I’m very qualified. I know you usually only take older students, but—”

The door opened, and suddenly there she stood. Professor Jasnah Kholin, her hair tied up in an elaborately braided knot, her dark skin glowing under her intricate set of bracelets. Between the sharpness of her cheekbones and her stature, her full chest and her intense violet gaze, and the grace of her movements, it was no wonder that half of the student body was in love with her.

_And the other half wishes to be her. I’m still not sure to which half I belong. Perhaps both?_

“Ah, Shallan,” Jasnah said as she spotted her. She didn’t even try to hide the sigh, which might have bothered Shallan under usual circumstances. “Are we to have this conversation again, then?”

Shallan smiled brightly, scooping Pattern up into her arms. “It seems we are since I know for a _fact_ you don’t have any classes for the next half hour. Can I come in, then?”

Jasnah rolled her eyes but moved aside, allowing Shallan to enter the office.

It was a small room, but Jasnah somehow managed to make it look luxurious in its simplicity. Every space on the wall was lined by books, many of which had been penned by Jasnah herself. Several of which were in languages that Shallan had never even heard of. There was no particular decoration in the room – Jasnah had told Shallan on several different occasions that she found visual art frivolous at best – but the atmosphere of the place was warm and studious, and Shallan smiled anyway.

“Sit, then,” Jasnah instructed. “Let’s get this over with.”

The women sat at either side of the desk, and Jasnah waited with her hands folded under her chin, one jet black eyebrow artfully raised. Shallan always wondered how people did that. When _she_ tried to artfully raise one eyebrow, she felt a little like someone had placed an orange snake on her forehead.

“I’d like to join _History vs. Truth,_ Professor,” she said immediately. “I’ve come with some better arguments, just like you suggested last time.”

Jasnah blinked slowly at her. “I already told you. I don’t permit anyone below their third year except in exceptional circumstances.”

“Well, yes,” Shallan replied. “That _is_ what exceptional means, after all. The word ‘except’ is right there in…” She trailed off, seeing how Jasnah was looking at her, then quickly changed track. “What I _mean_ is that I feel like my perseverance alone makes me the exception you’re looking for.”

Jasnah released her own chin and started tapping her long fingernails on the desk. “You are an artist, are you not, Shallan? You live in a world of fancy. There’s no room for such things in my class.”

“I’m majoring in natural history,” Shallan countered. “Not art. I think your class could be more than helpful to that.”

The older woman frowned – not upset but pondering. “You know I barely teach classes as it is. A select few students each year to keep the tenure board happy, yes, but I’m primarily a research fellow. What exactly is it you hope to gain from this?”

Shallan shrugged. “You’re the greatest historian I know.”

“I am a finder of truth,” Jasnah replied dismissively. “Most historians seek to tell a pleasant story. I seek veracity. That’s the only way we can move ahead with anything.”

“I see,” Shallan replied. “And, as a matter of historical truth, how likely is it that you telling me any of this will stop me trying to get into your class?”

Jasnah blinked at her. “You are quite insufferable, you know.”

“Thank you?” Shallan asked. It had been an insult, but somehow it had been said along the lines of a compliment.

“Yes,” Jasnah agreed. “Off you go, now. I have work to do, believe it or not, other than arguing with you and your kitten.”

Pattern miaowed as if happy to accept the acknowledgment.

Shallan stood but didn’t make for the door. “So…can I join the class?”

Jasnah didn’t answer, already returning to her writing. Shallan turned to leave, then saw the schedule board on the wall next to the door.

_Friday. 3:30pm. Room 232b, Ivory Building._

Well, she could remember that simply enough. Jasnah hadn’t said _no_ this time. Shallan supposed that merely turning up was as good a persuasion technique as any.

“Pattern,” she said, tickling the little cat under the chin, “We’d better make room in our schedules.”

* * *

Adolin Kholin was running out of time to declare a major, and he had no idea how in the world he was going to approach the matter with his father. Urithiru University offered a whole array of classes, and Adolin took as many eclectic offerings as possible. And while his father had expected him to go pre-law since his school days, he found those classes _terribly_ dull.

Renarin had started his first year here this year. Perhaps Adolin’s younger brother would be better served to satisfy his father’s hopes – though the pressure on Renarin had always been significantly less than the expectations on Adolin. But while Renarin might be able to deal with law classes’ incredible boredom, all Adolin wanted to do with his time was, well…make fashion.

Business classes and design classes were where Adolin’s heart lay. His girlfriend, Shallan, encouraged his dreams – of course, she did – but to everyone else, he was just the perfect son of the famous Judge Dalinar Kholin, fated to follow in the man’s footsteps.

Someone nudged his shoulder. He turned to see Maya looking at him in concern. She pointed down at the paper in front of her and scribbled, ‘ _ok?’_

Adolin smiled and nodded at her. Maya was his best friend. They had met in his first year – a year before Shallan arrived – and been inseparable ever since. Maya never spoke. From what she’d explained, she _could_ speak, physically, but a mental block made it next to impossible for her to get through it. Adolin didn’t really know what had happened to make her that way, but he supposed she’d tell him one day if she wanted to.

_‘Dreaming about girls again? Boys? Both and neither?’_

Adolin snorted. He tried to look offended, but in all fairness, Maya was right. Adolin had a terrible habit of falling in love with almost everyone, truly and deeply, in relationships that only ever ended in disaster. He wasn’t sure why. He tried his best to make them happy.

Things had changed since he met Shallan. The two of them had a strange, semi-open relationship, though mostly all that involved was both of them taking note of attractive people they’d seen that day and reporting back. Adolin had taken a few other girls on dates and been to a movie with one guy. Still, honestly, Shallan had seemed more upset that those didn’t work out than Adolin himself was.

“I’m thinking about my future, thank you very much,” he whispered.

 _‘Oh,’_ Maya wrote. ‘ _Have you told your dad yet?’_

Adolin grimaced.

‘ _It can’t be that hard, can it? He’s your father.’_

He patted Maya’s hand but said nothing. It was…complicated. Dalinar was Adolin’s father, and Adolin adored him. When he was younger, he’d _worshipped_ him, even. But that love was tempered by an ever-present awareness that he would never be Dalinar, no matter how much Dalinar wanted a son that was the same as him.

And, of course, Maya didn’t know what Adolin had discovered over the summer. About the accident. The fire that had claimed Adolin’s mother’s life…

_No. Don’t think about it. Don’t go there._

“I—” Adolin started to say, but he paused as the door opened. The young man that entered was nobody that he’d ever seen before. He was dark-skinned with strikingly dark eyes and long hair that he wore in a loose tail over his shoulder. He was tall, broad-shouldered, clearly fit.

And _handsome._

“Who is _that?_ ” Adolin whispered.

Maya looked up, then wrote, ‘ _The transfer from Hearthstone. Kal something.’_

The young man approached, slipping into the only empty seat still in the room – which just so happened to be the one next to Adolin. “This is Communication 105?” he asked.

Adolin nodded. “Yeah.” He held out his hand. “I’m Adolin, and this is Maya. She doesn’t speak, but she says welcome to Urithiru.”

The boy looked surprised but took his hand and shook it. “Kaladin,” he replied a little gruffly. “Thanks.”

The conversation died off as the professor entered the room. Still, as the class progressed, Adolin kept stealing glances at Kaladin. He _had_ to engineer a reason for Shallan to meet him. She’d go nutty if she got the chance to draw a guy like this.

 _Nuttier than usual,_ he amended fondly.

After the class, Maya rolled her eyes when he told her to go on ahead. Adolin hung back and, when he and Kaladin were the last ones in the room, said, “So…you look like a sporty guy.”

Kaladin looked bemused but said, “Yeah, I guess. Do you know where—”

“Do you play soccer?” Adolin asked. He didn’t mean to interrupt, but he found himself excited by the idea. It was a perfect way to introduce the new guy to Urithiru, and, well, Adolin wouldn’t exactly mind having him around some more.

“I do,” Kaladin replied, swinging his bag over his shoulder. “You’re on the team?”

“Team captain,” Adolin said proudly. “We’re having tryouts on Friday. You should come along if you want.”

Kaladin looked him up and down. Adolin watched the other man’s eyes move and wondered what, exactly, he was thinking. Eventually, Kaladin said, “You’re kind of weird, Adolin.”

Adolin laughed. “You’re not the first to say so.” He rummaged in his bag and drew out a flyer, then handed it to Kaladin. “You’ll come?”

Kaladin looked at the flyer. “The Urithiru Radiants? That’s…an interesting name for a team.”

Adolin grinned. “Great!” he said. “I’ll see you there.”

He left before Kaladin could say anything else and glanced at the clock. Shallan should be done with her meeting with Jasnah by now. He hurried toward the quad where they’d decided to meet, smiling to himself. It seemed like he and Shallan would have a _lot_ to talk about.


End file.
